


Light in Dark Places

by halfdemonvash



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Fire Emblem: Three Houses Blue Lions Route, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, M/M, Panic Attacks, Sad Sylvain Jose Gautier, Soft Felix Hugo Fraldarius, swearing because it's Felix, sylvix - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-29
Updated: 2020-01-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:07:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22458448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/halfdemonvash/pseuds/halfdemonvash
Summary: While running from the enemy, Felix and Sylvain find themselves in a situation that brings back bad memories. Felix has to search his emotionally constipated heart to figure out how to make it better.
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Comments: 4
Kudos: 300





	Light in Dark Places

The mud beneath their feet made them slide and stumble as they ran through the forest, breaths overly loud in the close, wet shelter of the trees. Between the two of them, Felix’s footwork was better; he managed to land on roots and grassier patches. But Sylvain had the disadvantage of bulk and heavier armor, not to mention the giant, glowing lance in his hand that might as well have been a beacon.

Felix would have grabbed it and thrown it into the shrubs if it weren’t a damned Hero’s Relic. At least Sylvain made the most of it, using the brunt end to steady himself whenever he began to lose his balance. A desperate, choked cough escaped his throat.

“Why the hell are you laughing?” Felix growled.

“Oh,” Sylvain panted, ducking under a large branch, “just thinking about my old man’s reaction if he saw the Lance of Ruin covered in mud.”

“It’s been covered in worse.” Felix grabbed his arm, forcing them to stop. Over their mingled breaths and the soft patter of the rain on leaves, Felix heard them: the Imperial soldiers who’d chased them from the field where the Kingdom army was finishing the eradication of a sudden ambush.

Felix wouldn’t even be in this situation if he hadn’t seen Sylvain’s horse take a nasty slice to the ribs, unseating its rider. Sylvain had been bucked from plenty of horses in his time; he knew how to fall. It was getting back up and being faced with an onslaught of mages that had been the problem.

Felix had split away from his battalion as the professor’s orders rang through the air, carelessly slashing his way across the field as the Lance of Ruin twirled through the air in a fiery arc accompanied by a fire spell. Felix drudged up his own lightning spell to distract the mages before he could slide his sword home into their chests.

He liked quick, clean deaths. No use in prolonging what was inevitable.

He and Sylvain had activated their major crests, signaling them out on the battlefield. Of course a bunch of Imperial soldiers had peeled off right for them. Of course they wanted to bring the heirs of Gautier and Fraldarius to their Emperor.

Felix bared his teeth. Like hell they would.

“You’re so sexy when you’re thinking about murder,” Sylvain said.

“Shut up. Come on.”

“Hey uh, I hate to be the voice of doom here,” Sylvain said as they started running again, “but those guys are going to surround us, and we’re outnumbered. What’s your plan, Fe?”

Felix didn’t have a fucking plan, because he was so used to running and slashing and ducking and moving on to the next target, over and over until the battlefield was wiped clear of enemies. He’d never had a mind for tactics (much to Ingrid’s chagrin) and simply followed his gut.

His gut was currently telling him that they were in deep shit.

Sylvain slowed to a halt, and he went on a few paces more before turning to him. Sylvain’s eyebrows were furrowed, an uncharacteristically grim look on his face.

“Admit it,” Sylvain said. “We have to make a stand. It’s the only way.”

Normally Felix would agree. But Sylvain was bleeding at the temple, and he was listing to one side that told him there was likely some internal damage. He kept seeing him fall from his horse, barely dodging a dark spikes spell.

Sylvain leaned against the rocky formation covered in thick moss and vines. Or at least, he tried to; his hand disappeared between the vines and he stumbled.

Felix practically pushed him out of the way and pulled the vines to one side. There was a small alcove hidden in the rocks, just big enough to fit him and one broad shouldered idiot in armor.

“Come on,” Felix hissed as the sound of the soldiers drew nearer. He crawled into the alcove and grimaced; it was damp and cold, and almost assuredly swarming with bugs. “ _Quickly!_ ”

But Sylvain hesitated, eyeing the tight space with wide eyes. His grip on the lance tightened.

Felix snarled and pulled on his legs, forcing him forward. Sylvain inhaled sharply and crawled in after him, wincing as his armor scraped against the rock. Felix grabbed the lance and pushed it as far back as it could go, hiding the light it emanated behind their bodies. He then leaned out between the vines and wiped an arm through the mud, getting rid of their tracks.

Sylvain sat with his back to the rock, knees pulled up to his chest. His breathing was funny, his teeth chattering. Felix felt a hot stab of panic; just how badly had he fallen from his horse? Had one of those spells hit him after all?

Then the soldiers were there, crashing through the undergrowth. Sylvain’s hand flew out and grabbed Felix’s wrist, squeezing painfully. Felix didn’t move, didn’t make a sound, only watching Sylvain and wondering what had come over him.

“Shit,” one of the soldiers grumbled from beyond the vines. “Couldn’ve sworn I saw them here. Not hard to miss with that hair.”

“Split up and search. Maybe they left tracks.”

Felix smirked. _Good luck with that_.

He and Sylvain were pressed close together as the soldiers searched. It was how Felix could tell when Sylvain started to tremble. Frowning, Felix looked up and found Sylvain pale and glassy eyed.

Felix grabbed his shoulder. Sylvain shuddered and closed his eyes tight, pushing down a fragile sound. He wondered what could have possibly caused this when all of a sudden it dawned on him.

Miklan. The well.

Felix hadn’t been there for the incident, but he and his father and Glenn had visited shortly after. Sylvain had been oddly withdrawn, one of his arms in a sling, the side of his face scratched up. Felix had demanded to know what had happened to him, eyes stinging with tears.

But Sylvain had been quick to smile even then, showing teeth. “My brother accidentally pushed me into a well and I was stuck for a while. It’s fine. I’m fine.”

It had taken several more years to eke the full story out of him: how Miklan had very obviously tried to kill him, how Sylvain had been trapped in that well for hours, screaming himself hoarse and sobbing for anyone to find him, save him. How he couldn’t really handle cramped, dark places anymore, because it brought him right back to that moment.

Felix cut back his violent curse. Of course. Sylvain was back in the well.

He was a fucking idiot.

His hand hovered over Sylvain’s shoulder, not knowing what to do. The soldiers were still outside, still too damn close for his liking. But Sylvain was making pitiful little noises in his throat now, soft whimpers that might as well have been knives ripping open Felix’s chest. Tears escaped the corners of Sylvain’s eyes, his armor starting to rattle from his shaking.

_Fuck_.

“You hear something?” one of the soldiers called.

Felix’s heart pounded against his ribcage. Sylvain fought for breath, his gasping growing louder in the small space. If Felix pressed his hand against his mouth, he’d only fight or flail, too vulnerable in this state to differentiate between friend and enemy.

Footsteps growing louder, boot soles squealching in the mud. Felix looked between Sylvain and the vines, desperation welling like an ocean in his chest.

_Fuck!_

He grabbed Sylvain by the collar and pulled him into a kiss.

A small gasp against his mouth, muffled by his lips. Felix’s skin caught fire as he held Sylvain there, eyes screwed up tight, their teeth practically knocking together. With a furious little huff Felix tried again, and this time it was softer, better.

Sylvain froze. Felix opened his eyes, unsure if he’d just made it a million times worse, suddenly doubting all the times Sylvain had not-so-subtly flirted with him, eyes darting down to his mouth, the little excuses to touch him, asking to do Felix’s hair for him, even going so far as to ask to take a fucking bath together, of all things—

His panicked thoughts were silenced by Sylvain’s answering kiss. A gloved hand held the back of Felix’s head steady as Sylvain sighed into his mouth and kissed him deeper. It was Felix’s turn to gasp; all around them was cold and wet, but Sylvain’s mouth was so warm, causing heat to purl throughout his body until the cold was completely forgotten.

Sylvain’s shivers had died down. He framed Felix’s face and parted his lips with a hot, insistent tongue. Felix readily opened for him, humming quietly in the back of his throat. He’d rather die than admit it, but he found himself craving Sylvain’s small touches, his stupid one liners. Any chance he got to bring a real smile to his face, instead of that brittle, almost cruel one everyone else received.

Felix slid his tongue against Sylvain’s. He felt his breath catch, felt Sylvain’s pounding heart even beyond the shell of his breastplate. Sylvain’s fingers tangled in his hair and gently pulled his head back more, allowing him an even better angle. Felix’s eyes finally drifted closed, and he held back the quiet moan starting at the base of his throat.

Yeah, Sylvain was a pretty good fucking kisser.

Felix’s thumb brushed over the side of Sylvain’s neck. Sylvain shivered and leaned into him with a broken breath. A hot, molten sensation erupted in the pit of Felix’s stomach at the reaction, at the fact that _he_ had been the one to get it out of _Sylvain_.

It made him wonder what else he could do to him. He wondered what Sylvain would do if Felix pinned his hands above his head, forcing him to be helpless, at his mercy. He wondered what Sylvain would do if Felix offered himself to his every base desire, letting him focus all his depravity on one person rather than thinning himself between dozens of partners.

He wondered what Sylvain would do if Felix told him to stop pretending everything was all right, that it was okay to be afraid of small, dark places, and to admit that his life was pretty fucked up and yes, it _was_ something to worry about.

“Felix,” Sylvain whispered desperately into his ear, fingers digging into Felix’s side above his hip. “Felix…”

Felix shivered at the raw emotion in his name. He clutched onto Sylvain like he’d drown otherwise.

He didn’t know how long they sat in that rocky alcove, mouths meeting again and again, Sylvain’s lips skimming down his throat. Felix was panting, uncomfortably aroused, practically writhing for more despite their surroundings.

A thought pierced him like an arrow: _the soldiers_.

He jerked back and ignored Sylvain’s needy whine to peer through the thick tangle of vines, listening hard. They seemed to be gone. And if he wasn’t mistaken…Yes, that was definitely Annette and Ingrid calling for them, fear in their voices.

“Shit.” He started to scramble out of the alcove, then turned back to Sylvain. His paleness was gone, replaced by a flush that made his eyes brighter. Those warm eyes stared at him in the way Felix normally pretended not to notice—full of admiration, desire, awe.

Swallowing, Felix held out his hand. Sylvain licked his swollen lips and glanced at it.

“I’m guessing when we leave, we forget about this?” Sylvain asked. His voice was low and hoarse, rekindling the ache in Felix’s core. “Pretend it never happened?”

A moment of silence passed. Felix bit his own kiss-swollen lip.

“Not unless you want to forget,” he said eventually. Quietly.

The painful hope on Sylvain’s face was too much for him. Felix turned away, his entire body burning, but still held out his hand to help Sylvain out of the alcove.

Sylvain took it, squeezing gently. Felix squeezed back.


End file.
